


a shot of silver

by laughtales



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, D/s themes, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Reincarnation, Softer than it sounds, Vampire AU, Vampire Sylvain, Whump, collars and restraints, non-sexual kink (for now), past life and endgame sylvix with a whole lot of claudevain in the middle, slowburn, vaguely victorian era-esque, we do not die like glenn because he lives in this fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:08:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25624159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughtales/pseuds/laughtales
Summary: He stood in a field of red that bloomed brilliant scarlet and deep mahogany as far as his eyes could see..For years, Felix has had the same reoccurring dream, one of achingly familiar red, a sad smile, and a farewell and ancient oath that made his soul ache.He didn’t think much of it until an audience with the new Duke Riegan. When he meets the man’s red-headed exotic pet, he's flooded with memories that aren’t his and a longing from the depths of his soul.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Sylvain Jose Gautier/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 14
Kudos: 25





	a shot of silver

**Author's Note:**

> A very happy birthday to the amazing [ cosu](https://twitter.com/guessibetter) on Twitter for being the primary inspiration of this fic with all the amazing claudevain and whump she draws. This one's for you <3
> 
> I've had this concept in my head for two months now and finally managed to bring it to life. I'm really proud of it and happy with how it turned out so I hope you enjoy it as well. I read a lot of dark victorian manga for inspiration and Kaori Yuki's _Godchild_ , in particular was very gripping. It's so messed up, in such delicious ways. 
> 
> Special thanks to Vii who beta-ed this for me <3

_He stood in a field of red that bloomed as far as his eyes could see._

_" "_

_Oh._

_That’s…_

_Someone was calling his name._

_He knew, even though he couldn’t hear anything. Could never hear the voice that spoke his name in ways that made something in his soul ache._

_He turned and squinted at the moon, large and bright and blinding. A silhouetted shape cut a sharp hole into the streaming moonlight._

_A man, shrouded in darkness._

_“ "_

_The man was saying something, but he couldn’t make out the words, couldn’t even see the way his lips moved to guess what he was saying. He felt himself cry out an anguished reply as tears streaked down his cheeks._

_He felt an observer in this play, fated to experience and witness without control._

_A voiceless scream ripped from his throat as the man turned and he extended a hand towards him, feet anchored where he stood. Despite the faceless, nameless darkness, he knew, somehow, that there was a sad smile on the other’s face. Suddenly, as he stared at his back with fear clutching at his heart, the invisible shackles around his feet released with a snap and he ran, reaching, grasping desperately for a red that dissipated into blackened dust._

_The last wisps of ink spilled through his fingers and faded like mist in the rising dawn._

_The sun rose and blinding moonlight was replaced with equally blinding sunlight._

_Sound returned amid rustling leaves and mourning birdsong._

_“ ”_

_The vestiges of that honeyed voice lingered in the breeze and his soul wept._

_Who was he? Why did he leave and where did he go? What was the suffocating ache deep within him, like a snare around his heart and a noose around his neck?_

_“I’ll ”_

_…Red._

_He was surrounded in that color._

_The scarlet sky._

_The crimson field._

_The sticky mahogany soaking his clothes._

_Red that made his heart ache and his head throb._

_Then the wind came and the world lost its color. Fading whispers floated away, only leaving behind traces of an ancient oath._

_“ I promise, Fe-”_

“-lix!”

Felix blinked awake, groggy and disoriented, with a wetness on his lashes and a weariness in his chest.

That dream again. The same one he’d had for years now, like a broken record, playing over and over in stilted pieces and warped images. Each run through was slightly different yet similar enough to be placed along the same vein of a foreign memory.

Always red.

Always that nameless, faceless man with a sad smile.

Always a soundless voice calling his name and a farewell that bled his heart and crushed his soul.

And when he woke there were always tears in his eyes and a dull weight in his chest that faded as the dream dissipated.

An annoyed thumping drew his attention and Felix turned his head. Beside his bed stood Glenn with his arms crossed, looking impatiently down at him.

“Why are you in my room?” Felix croaked.

He stretched and felt his back crack as he wrung out the last vestiges of sleep. Fully awake and alert, he sat up and glared at his brother, silently demanding an answer.

Glenn’s eyebrow twitched. “I wouldn’t be if you got up when the servants came to wake you half an hour ago.”

Felix frowned.

Now that he looked, the sun was already high in the sky, light streaming through the curtains. He wasn’t usually one for sleeping in let alone through wake-up calls and wondered if the unusually vivid dream had anything to do with his extended slumber.

Glenn cleared his throat and Felix looked back to him and his disapproving stare.

“Why are you still here, Glenn?”

That was evidently the last straw on Glenn’s patience.

“Felix,” he said blandly, an indicator of how exasperated he was. “Are you seriously telling me you’ve forgotten what today is?”

Felix raised an eyebrow. Of course he knew what today was. Glenn had only pestered him every day for the past week about clearing his schedule for it. Although Felix honestly wasn’t sure what the fuss was about attending some reception. Really, his brother of all people should know how he felt about trivialities.

Apparently, Glenn deemed it fit to remind him exactly what their frivolous plans were from the way he sighed.

“We’re expected to attend a reception hosted by the new Duke Riegan tonight followed by a private lunch tomorrow.” Felix scrunched his face, but Glenn cut him off before he could retort. “No, you can’t skip out again. Both our presences have been requested. It’s a big deal, Felix. This will be the first public appearance of the new duke since his succession.”

“I don’t give a shit about that.”

“I know,” Glenn sighed. “That’s why I don’t even bother with the numerous invitations you get. But you really can’t reject this one.” He uncrossed his arms and drew the curtains open, flooding the room with sunlight. “Now get your ass out of bed, ‘lix. The cooks are already panicking that it’s getting cold because you decided to sleep in.” He spared him a glance at the doorway. “I expect you at the table in twenty minutes.”

Felix watched the door click shut and sat in bed for another moment, thinking over the dream again. Thanks to Glenn, he’d already lost most of it, but the intense image of a fading figure against a backdrop of red was burned into his mind. Otherwise, he remembered little else other than a promise, his name, and desperation he felt in his bones.

It had felt so very real, like an ancient memory instead of fiction conjured from his imagination.

Eventually, he dragged himself out of bed and stretched in a patch of sunlight, easing out the stiffness in his body. Glenn had once likened him to a cat, sprawling and lazing in the sun, and gotten a wooden sword to the rib for his commentary.

He changed into something casual and threw his hair into a loose bun. It wouldn’t matter how he presented himself for breakfast; the company comprised of Glenn and their servants and every one of them were used to him. Besides, he was going to have to get dressed up in stifling clothes and a too-tight hairdo later anyways. Might as well savor whatever casual comfort he could get away with while he still could.

When he arrived at the dining room, Glenn was already there looking over papers. He set them aside when he saw him and motioned for the servants to bring out their meal. Felix slid into the seat across from Glenn and mumbled a quiet _thanks_ as he was handed a plate that made his stomach rumble. Glenn snickered, barely hidden by the teacup he brought to his lips, when he saw the face Felix had made at the smoked bacon.

Felix glared and Glenn held his hands up in a placating gesture before extending his own thanks to the staff. Only after he’d sent them off did he begin helping himself to his own food.

Despite being Marquess Fraldarius, his brother never sat at the head of the table unless they had company. Their father had passed suddenly a couple years ago and Glenn had been forced to inherit the title far sooner than he was expecting to. Sometimes, it felt as though their father was simply on an extended diplomatic mission and not resting six feet under in the family cemetery and Felix and Glenn would forget their titles and the responsibilities weighing on their shoulders. They could pretend that a spar turned grappling match in the training grounds would end with an exasperated sigh and a bonk to the head before being thrown in the bath to be presentable for dinner. It would last until a messenger called for _Master Glenn_ with correspondences for _Marquess Fraldarius_ and Glenn would deflate and rack his sword as reality descended upon them once again.

“So we leave right after we eat and get ready,” Glenn said, poking at his eggs. “We’re expected to be on time, Felix, so I’d appreciate if you didn’t stall.”

Felix scowled.

“Be presentable. The servants will lay out some clothes for you, pick one. Don’t look at me like that, ‘lix. I know, you hate it, but it’s just how it is. Wear something nice and I’ll let you bring your sword.”

“I’m not a child, Glenn.”

“Sure feels like I’m dealing with one sometimes.” Felix kicked him under the table. “See?” Glenn smirked. “But seriously, Felix. This is important. I’d appreciate if I didn’t have you making my life difficult on top of everything else.”

“I know,” Felix replied.

For as much as they bickered, he did care about Glenn. He knew his older brother didn’t care much for his responsibilities and Glenn knew how much Felix hated the confines of their titles. They’d talked about it once, before everything went to shit. About how Felix was considering rescinding his name and serving as a knight or a sell-sword instead.

But then their father died in that wretched incident and Glenn was forced to lead and Felix redirected his efforts into making his brother’s life slightly more bearable amid the suffocating expectations.

Besides, Glenn let him get away with a lot, and for the most part, allowed Felix do as he pleased.

So for as much snark he gave him, Felix kept his graces and did his part and he would go to this stupid reception and lunch just to meet and congratulate the new duke.

After breakfast, they went their separate ways to get ready. Felix glowered at the outfits laid out for him and picked the least suffocating looking one and headed for a bath. Despite the loose sleeves, the entire ensemble still felt far too tight and restricting, hardly offering him the mobility he preferred to have. But this was for Glenn and he _was_ a Fraldarius, so he squashed his qualms and fastened all the ridiculous clasps and buttons and ties.

He did feel a little better once he slid the familiar weight of his sword onto his hip.

Felix stalked off to Glenn’s room and didn’t bother to knock when he got there. Glenn was already dressed and pristine, hovering over a collection of accessories to pick out for the occasion. He looked every bit _Marquess Fraldarius_ and not _Glenn who stole his bacon this morning_. It was still jarring despite how many times he’d seen it.

Felix prickled when he saw that Glenn was wearing an outfit that matched his own, his brother no doubt guessing which one he’d go for. The black and Fraldarius-turquoise ensemble suited their features well. Felix’s had additional orange embellishments though, _to_ _bring out his eyes_ , their tailor had said.

“Oh gods, Felix,” Glenn said when he saw him, now with a floral brooch attached to his lapel. “Why didn’t you get the servants to help?”

Felix huffed and let Glenn fix his clothes, properly setting the layers before completely untying his cravat. He hated that thing. It pressed too tightly to his throat and he was too aware of his own breathing in it. Glenn seemed to sympathize though because he tied it as loosely as he could get away with before motioning for Felix to sit.

“Up or down?” he asked, running his hand through Felix’s hair.

“Up.”

His hair wasn’t as long as Glenn’s, and his brother’s was tied with a ribbon in a low ponytail plus a few pins to keep his bangs in place.

Glenn ran a comb through his hair and pulled it into a ponytail. Felix would never admit it, but he missed this. A tradition from their younger days that Glenn hardly had time for these days, so Felix relished in it whenever he got the chance.

“So, what’s the deal with the new duke? People inherit their houses all the time. You didn’t get something this fancy.”

Glenn hummed. “Well for starters, I’m not a duke, but we did have a banquet. You almost punched Count Gwendel in the face when he suggested incompetence because of my age. But anyway, your guess is as good as mine. I did look into him when the invitation arrived though. Appeared out of nowhere when the previous Duke was on his deathbed, but he’s done some impressive work since. Secured trade routes with our temperamental eastern neighbors among other things.”

Felix hid how impressed he was behind a grunt. The territories to the east were notoriously defensive and prone to argument. Getting them to agree to trade of any sort was impressive, especially considering how many others had tried and failed at the very endeavor.

“There are also a _lot_ of rumors about how eccentric he is,” Glenn continued.

Felix’s interest piqued. “Eccentric?”

“Yeah. His work is impressive, but his reputation is weird. Lots of strange stuff going around the circles, from dangerous poison collector to bird whisperer. Some say and I quote, _he’s a scheming piece of shit and I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could spit._ ”

Felix snorted.

“But even more than that are the rumors about the company he keeps and who he lets into his circle,” Glenn said, finishing his hair. Felix shook his head to test how it held as Glenn kept talking. “I want to feel him out tomorrow, see how much of the chatter is true and how much is exaggeration. Besides, you like weirdos, right? Who knows, maybe you’ll make a friend.”

Glenn laughed when Felix gave him the finger and slid on his coat. He grabbed his cane on the way out, a useless thing entirely for show, but Felix had to admit, it completed the look. He still stood by his opinion that the thing was a waste of time and effort though, no matter how good it made Glenn look.

Their heels clicked as they descended the front steps, coattails billowing behind them. Their driver was already waiting with the carriage and their overnight bags, bowing as they approached.

“Well then, little brother, time to go actually be a part of high society for a change.”

.

“This is so fucking extra,” Felix scoffed to no one in particular as he took a bite of some stupidly good spiced garlic chicken. 

The reception was held at a secondary estate of the Riegan family although that didn’t stop it from being unnecessarily extravagant. The grounds were huge; the reception was held in the gardens. There were live musicians and performances of all sorts throughout the evening, from magic shows to acrobatic fire-eating to elaborate sword dances. And food. Tables and tables of food made from ingredients and spices Felix had never seen before.

There were close to a hundred people milling about; almost every major and minor lord was either present or represented. Everyone was also dressed in clothes that looked exhausting to wear in Felix’s opinion, flowing gowns and enough accessories to sink a ship for the women and layers upon layers of expensive fabrics to tout their wealth and prestige for the men, no doubt trying to flaunt their way into the Duke’s good books and make an impression on the supposedly eccentric man.

Speaking of, the man in question hadn’t even bothered to show his face yet and Felix had been doing a stunningly awful impression of a wallflower for the last hour while Glenn made idle, pointless small talk with nobles trying to get into _his_ good books.

Honestly, the unfairly divine food and mesmerizing sword dance were the only reasons he was still here.

Glenn eventually escaped his company and joined him in a quiet corner, swiping some meat off his plate as exhaustion set into his posture.

“Can we leave yet? The bastard can’t even be bothered to show up to his own party.”

Beside him, Glenn groaned approvingly and took the entire plate out of Felix’s hand. “No, you can’t leave until the host arrives. But, get me another plate of whatever magic this is and you can leave ten minutes after Duke Riegan shows up. I won’t even make you talk to him; you can just go and I’ll cover for you.”

Felix considered it for a moment before agreeing. He grabbed the empty plate and dumped it on a passing servant. The damned duke better arrive soon, he cursed as he shoveled an impolite amount of food onto the plate for his brother. Felix had almost made it back to their corner when the piercing laughter and idle chatting quieted suddenly and a collective gasp rose from the crowd amid hushed whispering.

He followed their gaze to the stairs that led from the house to the gardens and to his surprise, there were two men there.

One man had dark hair and a dark complexion that made his emerald eyes and golden earring stand out. A charming smile was stretched across his face. He was dressed in what appeared to be riding attire, complete with tall black riding boots, tight trousers, and a riding crop on his hip. Contrary to the rest of the fitted outfit he was also wearing a billowing Riegan-gold cloak, fastened over his shoulder with an emblem Felix recognized as the family’s crest.

The other was dressed like the rest of the guests – well-fitted trousers, shirt, and vest, finished off with a fancy coat. Surprisingly, the entire thing looked halfway decent even though there were far too many unnecessary embellishments to be practical. One gloved hand rested on his hip while the other carried a wide flat case, not the type of thing to bring to a party and sure enough, it was drawing attention and curiosity for what it held. He was taller than the duke and carried himself with much the same air, but what stood out was the almost porcelain white of his skin and the bright red of his hair. And when he smiled, it was all teeth, sharp canines that exuded danger and allure.

An expensive, almost gaudy collar was snug around his neck in place of a bowtie and attached to it was a thin golden chain. The end of the chain was wrapped around Duke Riegan’s hand, who tugged at it as they descended the stairs to join the party.

Eccentric indeed, to not only own but also keep a creature as rare and dangerous as a vampire on a leash instead of a cage, but honestly, they made quite the attractive pair and were a feast for sore eyes. No one could look away despite the strangeness of the picture.

What Felix couldn’t look away from was the red. He hadn’t stopped staring since he’d caught sight of it, as though looking into a hypnotizing flame, tempting and luring him in. A familiar ache pulsed in his heart and when the man’s burnt-honey eyes met his own across the garden, his head throbbed with a sudden torrent of images and voices, none distinct enough to single out yet all drenched in that same red that screamed of melancholy and heartache.

Felix turned away before his knees threatened to buckle and thrust the plate into Glenn’s hands in a hurry.

“I’m done here,” he gritted out as his head finally quieted.

Whatever Glenn saw on his face, it was enough for him to let him go with a nod and Felix flagged down the first servant he saw to direct him to his room for the night.

He didn’t dare take another glance at the Duke and his company.

.

It was flattering, entertaining even, to watch his esteemed guests trip over themselves and each other to get his attention once they had picked their jaws off the ground and stopped ogling at them. Claude started making his rounds with the guests, engaging in pointless, idle small talk with them.

He got through maybe half of the people he had to see to when he noticed Sylvain starting to get antsy after the brief bout of wandering focus when they first arrived. No doubt the fragrant aroma wafting around was making him uncomfortable. Although that was rather the point; it wouldn’t do for him to lose himself, what with an important meeting on the horizon.

Claude was making his way through the crowd, stopping to greet a familiar face when a small whimper caught his ear. It was becoming clear that his undead pet was one nauseating whiff away from crumbling. Claude grinned, mischievous, as they made eye contact and those dull honey eyes practically begged him to go to the garden pavilion, away from the stench and hustle and bustle of people.

“Should we settle, pet?”

Sylvain dipped his head eagerly.

Claude was tempted to continue parading around just to watch Sylvain squirm, but considering their plans for tomorrow, he deigned to cut him some slack for tonight. He excused himself from his company, one of his only friends here tonight. She bid both him and Sylvain farewell with a smile and wave.

Unsurprisingly, those unfamiliar with him either kept their distance or straight up refused to acknowledge the vampire at his side.

It was no surprise.

Sylvain was a creature from legend. From stories drenched in blood, of strength that shattered bone, claws that shredded flesh, lethal fangs, and humans made feast, drained dry until all that were left were paper-white arid corpses.

Vampires, once feared and worshipped centuries ago, now faced extinction along with the rest of the mythical creatures that once walked the land. These days, they were persecuted and tamed and were now considered exotic creatures that represented an individual’s wealth and power.

Despite that, people still feared them, a bone-deep fear instilled from generations past. And to counter that fear, people flaunted their power now that the times had changed, reveling in the debts that could be collected from undying, immortal monsters.

Claude knew the stories, read about them from not-so-ancient texts and heard it straight from the horse’s mouth.

He brought Sylvain to the pavilion and settled on the divan, gracefully setting down his riding crop on the cushion and taking the case Sylvain had been carrying into his hands, running his fingers over the top of it.

Sylvain knelt at his feet and watched him, eyes clouded with anticipation.

Claude smiled and reached over to rest a hand on Sylvain’s head, delighting in the way the vampire leaned into the warm touch.

Really, wasn’t his pet just the cutest?

“You’ll be good for me, right?” Claude purred, pulling suddenly on the golden chain until it was taut between them, viscerally aware of their audience.

“Yes,” Sylvain hushed in a revered whisper.

“Good boy.”

Sylvain visibly shivered.

“Let’s get you in your toys then,” Claude said as he unbuckled the case and took out a pretty, golden restraint.

Sylvain crouched on his feet and Claude opened the restraint, wrapping the uppermost ring of metal around Sylvain’s neck, just below his collar. It was custom fit to his pet’s proportions and made to compliment his collar when he wore them together. Once Claude was sure it wouldn’t chafe – not that it could do much harm to an undead creature, but the marks were painful and unsightly to look at so Claude preferred to take his time with fastening Sylvain in – he moved on to the loops for his wrists. Claude secured one, then the other, before continuing to Sylvain’s ankles. He clasped those much the same and checked over the posture before locking everything in place with a heavy padlock.

Claude cupped his pet’s cheek and ran his thumb over the pale, chilled skin with adoration. He leaned back slightly and smiled. Sylvain really did look gorgeous like this, balanced precariously on the balls of his feet, curled on himself and leaning against Claude’s thigh. Unfastening his cloak, Claude draped Sylvain in his color and his crest before lounging into the backrest with a hand gently petting at the base of Sylvain’s hair.

With his pet settled, he finally paid attention to his hovering guests. “Hello,” he said to no one in particular.

Immediately, a minor lord stumbled forward with renewed confidence now that Sylvain’s immobility was secured.

How dull. Honestly, these people were far too easy.

Claude entertained several guests and sent the boring ones away once he had had enough of their mindless attempts of buttering him up. After yet another lord tried to chat him up for favor, he called for a glass of wine to nurse as he made his way through the inane conversation of overeager bootlickers.

“Duke Riegan, do I have your attention?” the current baron of some small territory asked, clear irritation in his voice as Claude tipped some wine for Sylvain to drink.

“I assure you, I’m paying you all the attention you deserve,” Claude replied, keeping his focus on the lovely alcohol-induced flush and false warmth the wine brought to his pet.

The baron tsked in annoyance and redirected his attentions to the vampire.

“It would appear that you are far more interested in that vile monster than my proposal, Duke Riegan.”

Claude’s eyes sharpened, gaining a cautionary glint that the baron unwisely ignored or simply didn’t notice as he bent from his seat, level with Sylvain, and sneered at him.

“My ancestors were slaughtered by its kind centuries ago, wretched bloodsuckers. If not for them, my house would not be in the position it is currently. Maybe I should collect my debts from this one. How about it, Duke? How much to let me have my way with it?” He reached out suddenly and grabbed Sylvain by the hair, yanking roughly and drawing a pained gasp from his throat.

Just as quickly, the whip of metal cutting through the air sounded and Claude’s riding crop was pointed a hair from the tip of the baron’s nose.

He let go of the vampire hastily and fell off his seat onto his ass, scrambling away from the riding crop still trained on him.

Claude stood and pulled the gold chain of Sylvain’s leash tight, steadying him from toppling over. There was a cold, dangerous sharpness in Claude’s eyes as he towered over the man.

“It would do you well to remember, Baron Mitchells, that I do not take lightly to my possessions being touched without permission.” His voice was void of any of the carefully crafted charm he usually projected. “Furthermore, I am not interested in you or your boorish proposal. My time and money would be better spent providing meals to the starving children of your towns caused by the preposterous taxes you’ve imposed rather than an avaricious leech like you.”

The baron’s face visibly paled and he scrambled at Claude’s feet, desperately trying to justify himself. 

“Leave.”

The baron was barely on his feet when he scurried away, face red and expression a mixture of helpless fear and anger.

Claude dropped back onto the divan, mood soured by the encounter. Sylvain rested his cheek on his thigh and keened, nuzzling as best he could from his position. Claude sighed and ran his fingers through Sylvain’s hair, smoothing it back into place where it had been displaced.

“I’m fine.”

Claude heard approaching footsteps and the distinct click of metal on stone and collected himself, slipping on an easy smile.

“That was quite the scene.”

A genuinely interested grin pulled at Claude’s lips. He stood to meet the man and extended a hand in greeting.

“My sincerest apologies, Marquess Fraldarius. It’s been a long night.”

He looked at the extended hand and then to Sylvain and for once, Claude wasn’t sure what to make of the look on the other’s face. The concealed reaction only served to intrigue him further. Then the marquess bowed, prim and proper with a hand across his chest before taking his hand with a firm shake.

Claude was surer than ever that tomorrow was going to be very rewarding.

“No need, Duke Riegan. Baron Mitchells’s behavior was unbecoming for a man of his status.”

Claude sat back down and gestured for the other to do the same, but he remained where he stood.

“I’d love to join you, but as you said, it has been a long night. I just wanted to extend my greetings before retiring. As you may have figured, my brother already excused himself and I am inclined to do the same. I think further acquaintance would best be made tomorrow.”

Claude chuckled. “Well said. In that case, Marquess Fraldarius, I bid you good night. I hope the quarters suit your fancy; feel free to let the servants know if you need anything else. I eagerly await lunch tomorrow to properly meet both you and your brother.”

With a nod and a shallow bow, the marquess excused himself and sought out a servant to lead him to his quarters. Claude’s eyes followed them until they turned a corner and grinned when he noticed Sylvain doing the same.

Tomorrow was going to be most interesting indeed.

“Well then, pet, why don’t we also call it a night.”

.

Soon after the marquess left, Claude got Sylvain out of his restraints and let his staff deal with the rest of his guests.

They headed straight for his quarters with the vampire rubbing at his neck and stretching out his back the entire way.

“Sorry about the baron. I should’ve been faster,” Claude said as he fiddled with the end of Sylvain’s leash.

“It’s fine. Not totally uncalled for considering how much you were provoking him,” Sylvain replied with an easy grin. “Besides, it was hot seeing that possessive and serious side of you.”

Claude laughed, light as a feather.

They were almost at his door when he saw, more than heard, the faint cry from one of his maids followed by the distinct shattering of glass. Sylvain reacted immediately, swallowing heavily as his eyes glowed. His pupils had constricted to mere slits and Claude heard a rumble deep in his chest.

He threw the doors open and dragged the vampire in by the collar behind him. He slammed them shut just in time for Sylvain to crowd against him with barely restrained control, panting in his ear. Claude could feel Sylvain’s breath against his neck, separated by mere inches solely because of his tight hold on his leash.

“Sylvain,” he said as he held him away, the angle awkward, not to mention how much Sylvain was fighting both Claude and himself.

“Claude,” Sylvain rasped in his ear. “ _Claude_.”

“Do you need me to muzzle you?”

Sylvain pulled harder against the chain, claws tearing through his gloves and sinking into the door on either side of Claude.

He was honestly impressed that Sylvain hadn’t lost his head yet, considering how starved he was in preparation for their little game with the Fraldariuses. Surely, with their proximity and the unexpected whiff of blood, every one of Sylvain’s instincts wanted nothing more than to sink his fangs into his pulse point and drink his fill until he was warm and sated.

Claude dropped the chain and Sylvain’s head thudded against the door with barely composed rationality. Claude twisted his hand into Sylvain’s hair and pulled, hard.

“Do you need to be muzzled?” he asked again.

Sylvain breathed heavily, struggling with himself for several long seconds before the restrained tremors settled. “Yeah,” he said with a shaky exhale. “Yeah, at least until this passes.”

With a ruffle to his hair and a wordless nod, Claude eased himself out from under Sylvain and walked to the far side of the room. He opened a drawer and took out a sleek black-wired muzzle and beckoned Sylvain over.

Sylvain approached and dropped to his knees, the glint in his eyes fading already, but Claude could tell the struggle was still there to fight his urges.

Claude set the muzzle down and watched Sylvain’s eyes widen. “I’ll get you more wine first. It’ll help.” Claude took the free end of Sylvain’s leash and tilted his head towards a hook on the wall.

Sylvain followed the motion and swallowed, thinking it over before shaking his head.

Without another word, Claude unclipped the chain from his collar and placed it on the nightstand. Then he draped his cloak back around Sylvain’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“Try not to tear apart too many pillows while I’m gone.”

When Claude returned with glasses and a bottle of wine, Sylvain was sitting in a patch of moonlight with his muzzle on the ground next to him. From what Claude could tell based on the feathers spilled on the carpet, Sylvain had only ripped one pillow open. Also, the vampire had taken the time to change into a robe although he was still wrapped up in Claude’s cloak.

“Feeling better?” Claude asked as he sat next to him and poured them each a glass of merlot.

“A little. At least not like I’m going to die if I don’t bleed you dry.”

Claude hummed, watching Sylvain drain his wine like a parched man.

“Slow down there, Syl, there’s plenty more. I know you can’t get drunk, but you’re not supposed to have alcohol flowing through your veins either.”

Sylvain chuckled and Claude relaxed. If Sylvain was feeling well enough to appreciate his jesting, then he was going to be fine.

“You were distracted earlier, right when we walked out,” Claude probed as he refilled Sylvain’s glass. “Was he the one?” He waited patiently, listening to the gentle swish of swirling wine.

“I don’t know. This isn’t the first time…” Sylvain trailed off.

Claude nodded. “Well his brother is interesting,” he said. “We’ll find out tomorrow. That was the point of us doing this after all.”

Sylvain took another sip. “Yeah,” he murmured. He set his glass on the ground and leaned into Claude’s side, pressing a cold line into the warmth of it, reaching for the muzzle and toying with it.

Message received.

Claude drained his own wine as well and picked the accessory up. He pulled Sylvain’s head into the crook of his neck for a moment before whispering into the crown of his head. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you what you need.”

Claude pulled away and secured the muzzle into place, watching as Sylvain sagged with relief. They stayed there for a moment longer before Claude took the key with him and changed as well before climbing into bed. 

“Come here once you’ve finished basking in your moonlight; I can’t sleep properly without my personal cooler.”

Sylvain smiled at him warmly, eyes back to that soft burnt-honey kindness.

“You know I always do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I had a lot of fun writing this. Please drop me a kudo/comment if you enjoyed it and you can [ like/retweet it here](https://twitter.com/laughtales_/status/1289071645282492418?s=20). I'd love to chat about this au some more so feel free to visit me on [ Twitter](https://twitter.com/laughtales_) where I sometimes post snippets for wipwednesday. 
> 
> A few notes:  
> \- [ cosu's beautiful art that inspired Sylvain's muzzle](https://twitter.com/justonevice/status/1278588869575933953?s=20)  
> \- The restraint Claude puts Sylvain in is called a Scavenger's Daughter (although his is altered to be less uncomfortable). Please google with caution as it is a torture device but I found a less graphic picture [ here](https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fcollections.royalarmouries.org%2Fmedia%2Femumedia%2F338%2F222%2Flarge_A8_969.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fcollections.royalarmouries.org%2Fobject%2Frac-object-24509.html&tbnid=1k-UjYOigQJBYM&vet=12ahUKEwiDyti31e_qAhXFcK0KHfoeBNEQMygOegUIARCqAQ..i&docid=QUuGKiRUC4fpsM&w=1451&h=1920&q=scavenger%27s%20daughter&hl=en-US&ved=2ahUKEwiDyti31e_qAhXFcK0KHfoeBNEQMygOegUIARCqAQ) and [ here's](https://imgur.com/a/qenxnYj) Kaori Yuki's explanation/demonstration of how it works. Honestly, I just wanted an excuse for Claude to put Sylvain in one for the aesthetic.  
> \- I had to make Fraldarius a Marquess because I needed Claude to rank higher than them without being, you know, the monarch (not that there is one in this universe). And because Fodlan had wonky ruling structures in-game, Riegan and Fraldarius held the same title but not the same status and that just wouldn't work here ;;
> 
> Next time: An unexpectedly eventful lunch, Claude lovingly bullying Sylvain, and a sensual feeding session :D


End file.
